


You fuck other people in here?

by girlyjuice



Category: Palm Springs - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:29:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25598089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlyjuice/pseuds/girlyjuice
Summary: One of the things Nyles is proudest of in his life – if one could even call it a “life” anymore, which is dubious – is that he’s learned, in detail, how to sexually satisfy almost every woman at the wedding. Some of the men, too.
Relationships: Nyles/Abe, Nyles/Daisy, Nyles/Darla, Nyles/Misty, Nyles/Sarah
Comments: 10
Kudos: 83





	You fuck other people in here?

One of the things Nyles is proudest of in his life – if one could even call it a “life” anymore, which is dubious – is that he’s learned, in detail, how to sexually satisfy almost every woman at the wedding. Some of the men, too. (Come to think of it, there’s also a nonbinary person in attendance, but they aren’t out to their family yet and told Nyles about it in confidence one November 9th many November 9ths ago, so Nyles is keeping his mouth shut about that. And yeah, he got them off too. Of course he did.)

The barkeep, Daisy, was one of the easiest to learn, and is still a favorite. He’ll fuck her sometimes when he’s feeling blue about the whole “trapped in eternal upper-middle-class hell” thing. It requires that he either stay awake and charming until her shift ends at 2 a.m., or convince her to slip away to the bathroom for a few torrid minutes. The trick with her, he’s found, is to compliment her boots – they’re her favorites; she once made a man lick them before he was allowed to lick her, as she’ll gladly tell you if she’s had 1.8 glasses of wine or more. Nyles has flirted with her using wit and whimsy, mystery and guile, but what she responds to best is a straightforward proposition wrapped up inside a submissive demeanor. She can’t resist a man who’ll willingly kneel at her feet, literally and figuratively. Nyles still sometimes slips up and calls her “Mistress Daisy” before she’s asked him to (it’s just muscle memory, he can’t help it), but fortunately she’s usually pretty chill about it. He sidles up to her bar with a bashful smile whenever he’s craving a clit in his mouth or the depression-alleviating  _ thwack _ of a small, strong hand slapping his face, his ass, his balls.

Darla the barfly is, somehow, an even wilder ride. She talks the whole way through – almost shouts, really – and at first he’d try to tune it out, but eventually he came to appreciate her filthy mouth. It’s one of the only truly random things in this universe he finds himself in; he never knows whether she’s going to mewl pleas like the sweetest kitten or bark orders like a drill sergeant. When he fucks her, it’s usually a drunk decision at the end of a sad night full of hollow darts victories, but he’s done it enough now that he always hits the bullseye.

He’s so bored with Misty and her goddamn great legs at this point that he barely even tries anymore. Her name to him is little more than a password into places he wants to go in this world: stony gazes melt into warm familiarity whenever he reminds anyone that he’s “Misty’s boyfriend.” But truth be told, he hasn’t felt like her boyfriend in a long, long time; he’s not even sure if he felt like it before he fell into the loop. In any case, she likes to be fucked hard and fast from behind, ideally with a vibrator on her clit – which unfortunately they hadn’t packed for the trip, so when he needs one, he grabs the purple-wrapped present second from the left on the gifts table and whips out a Magic Wand somebody thought the bride and groom would appreciate. Misty’s always surprised at this development; he’s learned by now that the best way to cease her incriminating line of questioning is to make her come so many times she can’t speak. (It does result in slightly weird energy during her bridesmaid speech later, though, since the wand tends to leave her legs wobbly and her tongue loose. There have been some incidents.)

Tala’s too principled to fuck him on her wedding night (or like… at all, probably, but her wedding night is the only night that exists), but if he plays his cards right, sometimes he can flirt his way into the newlyweds’ suite to at least watch their marriage’s consummation. It takes a lot of non-threatening chill-guy energy and a subtle reference or two to Abe’s burgeoning bisexuality. Tala, ever the saint, just wants to see her new husband happy, even if that means getting his dick sucked by some random goof in a sloppily-buttoned Hawaiian shirt. She’s good enough to donate bone marrow and she’s also good enough to throw Nyles a bone. Hey, he’s had a lot worse things in his mouth. (Don’t ask. Seriously.)

Sarah’s different. Even before she followed him into the cave, they had a connection he found almost troublingly intense. Any time he bothered to seek her out and chat her up (not on the dance floor, anywhere but on the dance floor), they’d inevitably get into weird, wine-addled conversations about marriage, misery, and the meaning of life. Sometimes that led to intense, perfect fucks against palm trees or on hotel room floors, but sometimes it was just about lying on the grass under the stars with this smart broad who fucks around and drinks too much. Some days, overcome with shame and despair, he’d avoid her altogether; they’d never cross paths, never “meet,” never talk, never kiss, never fuck. Those were the nights he’d seek out a Daisy or a Darla, trying to love them, wishing he could love anybody. Wishing he wouldn’t be alone in this thing anymore.

He thinks about those nights often, now that she’s caught in the loop with him, now that she’s something like his girlfriend. (Your time loop girlfriend is sort of like your summer camp girlfriend; it’s a loose title, carelessly appointed and not exactly real.) He thinks about all the nights he did fuck her, and all the things he learned. And even as he’s kissing her deep and slow, or fucking her rough and angry, or licking her clit with the hunger of a man who can’t ever escape and can’t ever get enough, he wishes he had paid more attention. He’s always trying to memorize what she likes, what gets her off, what leaves her breathless. It might be the only thing that even fucking matters to him anymore.


End file.
